


Apartment 4B

by saramcm



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, In which Emma is a bounty hunter raising Henry on her own, as cliche as it is, author is trash tbh, spoiler alert: sort of a friends with benefits thingy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-23
Updated: 2015-03-05
Packaged: 2018-03-14 17:05:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3418661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saramcm/pseuds/saramcm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emma's searching for a place where she belongs. The attractive upstairs neighbor is a bonus.<br/>(Sort of.)</p><p>Rating is for future chapters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to my Kristie Babycakes who keeps encouraging me to write this.

She's never had a place she could call  _hers_. Her first memories are from a foster home, and whenever she thinks back on that time there's a bitterness in her throat caused by the irony of the word   _home_. It's never felt like it, despite how insistent the nurses were on telling the children they were each  other's family-- But then they would leave, they'd be adopted, find actual families and forget all about the ones left in the foster home. Including Emma.

It was probably her fault, she would realize later on, that she never was adopted. As Emma grew, she grew curious of who her parents m ight be; as she grew some more, she began to resent them for giving her away. Whatever her feelings towards them, she was extremely aware that they existed  _somewhere_ , and it kept her from looking at anyone else as family. Everyone who took her would bring her back weeks after, unable to bond with her they way they wished to bond with their child. And then... Then she was too old. All she wanted was to get away.

And she did. After many tries that landed her back in the system whenever she was found, Emma finally got away just before turning seventeen. She survived on things that she wasn't proud to steal and crashed wherever she could. Colder nights were harder to stand, but she still found it better than going back and eventually reasoned that sleeping in a car would be the end of all her troubles.

She met  _him_.

Stealing an already stolen car was not her smartest move, and to this day she wonders just how she didn't notice the person sleeping in the backseat. At that time, it was all a little bit overshadowed by her falling madly in love with him in a short period of time, living a Bonnie and Clyde love story for a year. It was spontaneous, wild, and perfect, just as he was. They didn't have a home, but he promised her one. Emma was on cloud nine.

He betrayed her.

Her fall from the clouds was sudden and painful, her dreams shattering along with her heart. Emma Swan, eighteen years old, was thrown in jail to pay for her loved one's crime. And the worst was, she still loved him. As much anger as it brought to her, as much as it pained her to think about it, she was still in love with him while hating him all the same. Those mixed feelings were only heightened when she started waking up feeling sick and noticed her cycle was more than a week late. The pregnancy test was positive and Emma found herself lost.

She'd give him away. She would give birth to a baby boy and she would give him away, that's what Emma told herself while staring at herself in the dirty mirror in the bathroom, her bump growing as the weeks passed. Two other inmates made snide remarks and she didn't hear, too absorbed in her own thoughts and the painful realization that she was a bad mother even before having the baby; in jail surrounded by smokers and eating food that she was certain would not give the fetus the nutrients he needed, not matter how many times the doctor told her everything was fine and he was healthy. She would give him away.

The first time Emma heard her son cry she thought she ought to be angry, or at the very least annoyed. She was tired and sore after giving birth to a baby that came from a love she resented, looking away at a random spot at her left and waiting for the obstetrician to take him away. Her heart clenched with memories of her years in a foster home and she looked at him. He was a tiny, squirmy thing and Emma was crying without really knowing why. "Wait--" They brought the baby to her and she held him for the very first time. She couldn't give him away.

Emma named her son Henry and promised him and herself she would give him his best chance. He filled a hole in her heart that had been left by his father, and in return Emma gave him all the love she had. When she was finally allowed to leave that place, the car she had stolen was awaiting her. She wouldn't have taken it if she had anything else at all.

Her main goal was to turn her life around and keep her promise to her son. She found a crummy apartment and a job as a telemarketer, which was less than ideal but a good start as she slowly got back on her feet. She could just fulfill Henry's necessities and hers and kept her head held high, continuously attempting to find a better job with better stability, and in the six years she remained in Boston she had a total of eight different jobs, the last of which as a bail bonds person; Emma realized she was quite good at it, and that's when she decided a bit of a change in pace was in order.

New York. From a young age, Emma had dreamed of one day living in the big city. Of course back then, her dream hadn't involved a six year old son tagging along, but this was better. At last she had a family, small as it was. Wherever they were, whether in a small apartment where the heating system kept breaking or in a cheap inn like the one they stayed for a long while when they arrived to New York, Emma felt loved. The only thing missing was the stability she so craved, but she was confident she might find it soon.

She found it one Saturday afternoon while on a lazy walk with Henry, when he stopped in front of the pet shop, downright mesmerized by two kittens having a playful fight. His gaze drifted to the large aquarium and his eyes widened; before Emma could even predict it, he was asking her to go inside and look at the fish closely, and it's not like she could say no to that. Behind the counter was a familiar face, and before she knew it she was staring, trying to place a name to the known features. The man noticed her and said her name before she could get flustered, bringing a bright, pleased smile to her face when she recognized him.

David had been the only person in the foster home who she had  _truly_  connected with. He came in late, when she was fifteen and he was seventeen, bruised and broken and holding a kindness in his eyes that Emma hadn't found possible to feel in that state, dropped in a foster home when his violent uncle finally payed the price for the years of drunken beatings. Emma had been brought back one time after another fruitless attempt at escaping and this new boy approached her, whispering words of encouragement and understanding. And she clung to him, for a whole year and a few months she clung to him as she would to an older brother, until he was taken away from her shortly after turning eighteen to live life as an adult.

Upon meeting him again, Emma made it very clear that Henry wasn't something she wanted to explain at that moment. She did, however, tell David that the two of them had just moved and were still trying to find their place in the city. He still acted as Emma's guardian angel, it seemed, telling Emma he might know someone with a room for rent.

It wasn't much, but Emma didn't mind sharing a bedroom with her son and it was definitely better than the inn where she could hear mice scuffing above the roof. Mary Margaret, the woman who she rented the room from, was a teacher at the elementary school Henry would be attending when the school year started, and she received them with an open smile and an offer of hot chocolate.

It was enough. At least for a while.

Emma didn't know how she missed it in the first few weeks, but it slowly became obvious to her during the time she spent together with David and Mary Margaret that she was definitely third wheeling. She wondered whether  _they_ knew it, because despite the love loaded glances and the seemingly permanent smiles, they never seemed to get as close to each other as they seemed to want to be. It was entertaining, for a while, they it got a little bit painful to watch; not as painful as when they  _actually_  started dating and Emma would come home after a long of sitting in her car waiting for a fugitive to come out of his basement only to find the couple on the couch, watching something dumb on TV and giving each other pet names.

She got used to it -  _had_ to get used to it - because Mary Margaret turned out to be a fantastic friend and David was still as protective of Emma as he had been back then. They were worth the effort of walking past them without making gagging noises.

Eventually, it became obvious that David spent more time at their home than his own, so he moved in. Emma's first thought was to take his place, but he advised her against it; apparently he'd been itching to get out of there himself due to the constant plumbing issues. Whether it was for that reason, the much easier payment of rent when the amount of divided by three people, or because she felt like her tiny family was growing... Emma didn't protest and stayed put.

It wasn't as crowded as one might think, and their living arrangements were fairly easy to follow. Mary Margaret didn't mind taking Henry to school, which gave Emma the opportunity to make some extra cash by offering to do more overnight surveillance. Henry and herself would shower at night, leaving the one bathroom to be used in the morning by the other two inhabitants of the apartment. Emma wasn't picky with entertainment-- Henry was, though, but for the most part his choices were approved by the rest of them.

It worked.  
Until Mary Margaret got pregnant.

She gave them the news with a bright, excited smile that Emma was only happy to return. David was  _elated_ , and wouldn't tire of reminding them that he would be a father. It wasn't until a week after receiving the good news that Emma started panicking because the room she shared with Henry would have to be vacated before the baby would arrive.

Six months later, she finds herself parking the moving truck in front of an apartment building. She gets off and 10 years old Henry follows, and when they're both standing on the sidewalk Emma points up at the window on the fourth floor where the  _'For Rent'_ sign used to be. "That's it, kid. Our new home."

She's never had a place she could call  _hers _ . She's hoping this will be it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fun stuff starts on the next chapter, loves. Bear with me, as this is my first CS fanfic.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	2. Meet Not-So-Cute

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the kudos and comments on the first chapter!  
> I honestly thought I'd have this up sooner, but then things got in the way. Sorry!  
> I apologize for any ridiculous mistakes, a part of this was written on my phone and I'm not a fantastic proof reader.

The engine of her yellow  Volkswagen  Beetle (which she never got around to getting rid of; at first it was a matter of necessity, now it's mostly because she's made more memories in that car pertaining her son than the ones she has about his father or her past) is loud these days, and Emma turns at the familiar sound. David sits behind the wheel with a very much pregnant Mary Margaret at his side, and he pulls up behind the moving truck Emma drove. When the couple gets out of the car, Henry runs over to Mary Margaret to point to the window Emma pointed out to him. Emma, on the other hand, wears a pretty smile on her lips sand waits for David to join her.

"You really didn't have to come," She states, shooting a very obvious glance at Mary Margaret's pregnant belly. There's concern behind her eyes and in the half frown her features contort into-- But she can't stop smiling.

"Someone had to bring your car over. And if there's something that we've both been hearing incessantly for the past few months is that Mary Margaret is pregnant, not crippled. She wouldn't take no for an answer and you know it."

"Stop blaming the mother of your unborn child, you're just as stubborn as she is," Emma throws light punch at David's shoulder and he laughs. After a glance to his side over at where Mary Margaret and Henry stand, he follows the boys arm and looks up at the window on the fourth floor.

"So. Is that it?" His voice is soft when he asks, looking up through squinted eyes to try and shield his irises from the morning sun.

"That's it." Emma nods, mimicking his actions without realizing it. The silence stretches after that and David is still looking up when she faces him. She grins and punches him in the arm again. "It's a ten minute drive. I expect you freeloaders here all the time."

" _Excuse me?_ Freeloader?" He's looking at her again, his grin matching hers. When he gets no response from Emma other than a challenging quirked eyebrow, David laughs and pulls her close with an arm around her shoulders. "While I do have other motives to stop buy, it would be nice of you to put out a cheese platter whenever we visit."

Emma rolls her eyes and pulls away from his half hug to head for the back of the truck, her only response being a scoff of _cheese platter_.

* * *

The best part of the morning is spent in a tedious routine of up and down. Since the very beginning of the moving process, Henry has made it very clear that he doesn't want people messing with his things. His _important_ things, as he put it. He was the one to pack all his comic books, toys and figurines, and those are the boxes he demands to be the one carrying. As for his clothes and other _necessary_ belongings, he leaves it to his mother.

David and Emma carry the heavier things; the boxes filled with books, clothes, kitchen items in general and various trinkets. Other than that there are the still sealed boxes of IKEA furniture that Emma thankfully managed to buy thanks to her savings in the last 10 years and an extra effort to work nights since the announcement of Mary Margaret's pregnancy. She refuses to call that extra money 'Henry's college fund', because if she does she will put a whole lot of unnecessary pressure on herself. She _will_ put that money back.

Mary Margaret is assigned to the lighter boxes, but it doesn't take long until she's carried all the pillows, curtains and duvet Emma owns up to the fourth floor. From then on, she busies herself sorting through the boxes the others bring up and putting whatever she can in its rightful place. Besides complaining about being stuck upstairs, the time ends up passing quicker than she thought while she puts the dishes, cups and  cutlery  away in the cabinets  existent  in the kitchen.

Henry is the first one to remind them when lunch time comes, and after a short discussion over the matter it's decided that they will order pizza. David pays and says something about not buying Emma a housewarming gift, and they sit on cardboard boxes in the living room to eat. Emma's eyes wander during that time, making a mental note of where to put what and getting an excited tingle all over her skin when she imagines her apartment completely furnished.

The moving team she hired arrives soon after they're finished having lunch to bring in the bigger, heavier things. David is still carrying the last few boxes up, but soon joins Emma and Mary Margaret who are fumbling with the instructions to assemble Henry's bed. The young one himself is putting his belongings on the bookshelf the two women managed to complete on their own.

* * *

The sun is setting by the time Emma remembers she packed the toiletries in the trunk of her car, along with some emergency clothes. It's a good thing, too, because she doesn't have the energy to go through the mostly unpacked boxes in search of pajamas for herself and Henry tonight. It's not a lot, and Emma can definitely carry it all up on her own, but they're almost done and Emma asks them all to go down with her and wait by the car while brings the boxes up in two trips. David argues that he can help her, but she reminds him of the hammer incident that left his hand swollen.

It's when she's carrying the first box (the shampoo inside must have spilled, the cardboard is damp and she's too focused on making sure it doesn't tear before she's up in the apartment) that Emma runs into a tall man who seems to be getting his mail. She lets out a quiet _shit!_ and looks around to make sure Henry was not near her, before she looks up to face the man. _Well. Wouldn't mind it if all the neighbors looked like that_.

"I'm sorry," She starts and a laugh laces her words. Awkward laugh, that is. "It's been a crazy day."

"I imagine." He speaks with an accent and with his eyes on the box she's holding. They move up to actually face her and a charming smile tugs at his lips. "Moving in, I take it? Since I don't recall ever being graced at your presence. It seems like something I would remember."

Well. Talk about not wasting time. "Or maybe I'm helping a friend move in."

"I would despair if you were," There's a sort of flourish to the way he speaks, even carries himself, and Emma's first thought is that he's a  presumptuous  dick.

An attractive presumptuous dick.

She makes a point to scoff at the ridiculousness of his advances and shifts the box she's holding. "Despair no more, stranger who talks weird. I'm officially the new tenant of 4B."

"Ah--" He straightens up. Emma has a feeling he may have been expecting that answer. As she's pondering on that, he takes a step closer to her personal space and she blinks when his polite smile turns to a smirk and his eyebrow quirks suggestively. "It appears you'll be living right under me, then."

A second is all the time Emma has, and definitely not enough for her to decide whether that was pathetic or incredibly smooth. Henry runs towards her and pokes her side, claiming Emma's attention.

"Mom! David says he'll take me for ice cream across the street. Can I?" He looks up at her with the same eyes she sees every time he's begging for a comic book, and hell, there's a reason his collection is so extensive.

"It'll spoil your appetite for dinner," Emma didn't think she'd be able to cook, anyway. Henry bounced a little, expectant, and finally she rolled her eyes and caved. "Alright. Don't get used to it, though!" She speaks the last part louder, since her son is already bolting out the door after a quick 'Thanks!'.

She turns again at the man has taken a step back once again. "--I take back my innuendo."

"I thought so," It's Emma's turn to smirk. Not all that  humorous  when men instantly lose any interest in her when they learn she has a son, but she can't stop finding it funny that men are, indeed, all the same. And it doesn't particularly bother her; she's not looking for approval, anyway.

It occurs to her that he might have thought there was a father moving in with her. It also occurs to her that Henry's mention of David may have sounded like something else. Emma doesn't bother correcting him.

"Killian Jones." He extends a hand for her to shake, but lowers it again when Emma shifts the box one more time, settling for a nod instead. "Welcome to the building, love."

"Emma Swan," She nods back, a small smile slowly growing on her features again as she follows him to the elevator. He presses the 4th floor button for her and Emma mutters a thank you. An awkward silence settles between them, aftermath of a strange first encounter, but when the doors slide open and she steps forward, she turns to him.

"Nice meeting you, Jones."

"Pleasure's all mine, Swan."

* * *

"Is everything alright? I didn't expect you to take so long," Mary Margaret wears a mildly concerned expression on her face as she leans against the car. David and Henry are still nowhere to be seen, still enjoying their ice cream across the street, Emma assumes. She shakes her head and goes to the trunk, takes out two smaller boxes and closes it.

"Everything's fine. I just met my first neighbor."

"Oh!" Mary Margaret's face lights up. "And...?"

"He's a presumptuous dick."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll try to make the chapters longer as the story progresses, but this was clearly a necessary chapter and adding more to it didn't seem fitting to me.  
> I also apologize for being AWFUL with Killian's vocabulary. Damn you, Killian Jones.
> 
> I'd appreciate it if you'd spare the time to leave me some feedback. Your words are what keeps me motivated :) Constructive criticism is always welcome, loves.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
